


A Place To Step Forward

by kingsofmusic



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alexei is alive, Ambiguous Relationships, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, He's mentioned two times but I need you to know he's okay, Injury Recovery, Jim Hopper is alive, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 03, Some dialogues are in Russian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-06-25 06:54:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19740505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingsofmusic/pseuds/kingsofmusic
Summary: Murray wasn’t like that. He wasn’t caring. He didn’t really care about anyone except himself. On a less personal level, he also cared about the safety of American citizens. Keeping that in mind, it would be logical to assume that what he definitely did not care about was the life of Russians. They were enemies of the state, a danger to American sovereignty, and he had no business associating himself with any of them.And yet. He enjoyed Alexei’s company.





	1. The Wait

**Author's Note:**

> I had to write this fic because the world needs a happy Murray and a happy and alive Alexei. This will be either a two- or a three-part fic. 
> 
> The title is a translation of this song's title.
> 
> The fic contains some dialogue in Russian, but the transliterations and translations are in the notes below. While I know some Russian, a lot of what I wrote here involved checking dictionaries and grammar tables. Nevertheless, I hope there aren’t many mistakes (if there are any).
> 
> I also know nothing about treating gunshot wounds except for what I’ve seen in movies, so I took some creative liberties here. The topic is not talked about or described in graphic detail, but Alexei is in the hospital for some part of the fic.
> 
> Characters’ views are not necessarily my own. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy it x

Murray wasn’t like that. He wasn’t caring. He didn’t really care about anyone except himself. On a less personal level, he also cared about the safety of American citizens. Keeping that in mind, it would be logical to assume that what he definitely did not care about was the life of Russians. They were enemies of the state, a danger to American sovereignty, and he had no business associating himself with any of them.

And yet. He enjoyed Alexei’s company.

Somewhere between this Russian man calling him a bald American pig and them wandering off to have fun at the fair, he really began to like the guy. They had a similar, dirty sense of humour. Murray remembered how just a couple of hours ago they were both laughing at Joyce and Jim’s inability to get their shit together. _Fuck_ , how could everything go to shit in this short amount of time?

Now Alexei was battling – Murray hoped he was still battling – for life in a hospital ten miles away and Murray was getting out of the Russian military base after helping Joyce and Jim destroy the machine that was the cause of all the trouble. He should feel happy and accomplished – and to an extent he did – but at the forefront of his mind he saw only one thing, and it was Alexei.

Once they exited the mall, Joyce went to hug her son and Jim found his daughter. In that moment, Murray realised there was nothing holding him there anymore. These people were not his friends – they asked for his help, they received it, and now they were all going to move on with their lives. Lives that did not include one another.

So he retreated quietly, without saying anything, and went to steal a car that would take him to the one person he currently gave a shit about.

***

‘Good evening, I’m here to see Alex-’ Murray paused for a second, because, _fuck_ , he did not even know Alexei’s last name. Then again, he doubted the doctors knew it either.

‘Visiting hours start at 9am,’ said the receptionist in a tone that indicated she would rather be anywhere else but here.

Murray looked at the clock. 3.32 am. _Shit._

‘Okay. Can I at least ask how he’s doing?’ tried Murray.

‘Name of the patient?’

‘Alexei.’ He prayed Alexei didn't have any identification on him so that he wouldn't expose himself as basically a stranger, and not a worried close relative he wanted to pass as. He wanted to see him as soon as possible. ‘He got shot at the fair? In Hawkins?’

‘Oh, him. We didn’t have any information on this man’s identity, but if you know him maybe you could help us?’

‘Yeah, sure, whatever. Can you just tell me his status?’

‘From what I know, he’s now in surgery.’

 _Fuck._ Anything could still happen. Surgeries can be unpredictable, but at least he was still alive.

‘Okay.’ He said absent-mindedly. He was still processing the fact that Alexei survived the shot. For now.

‘So, about the personal data?’ The receptionist interrupted Murray's thoughts.

‘Uh… Yeah. Right.’ He guessed he had to improvise.

‘Name?’

‘Alexei’

‘Last name?’

_Think Murray, think. Don’t repeat the Molotov mistake from earlier._

‘Smirnov.’ _Goddamn it Hopper. You and your fucking nickname._

‘The man’s Russian?’ asked the receptionist with mild disgust noticable in her voice. 

‘Yes.’ There was no use in lying. They all would know he didn't understand an ounce of English the second Alexei woke up. 

‘And you know him how?’ _God, is this receptionist as much into conspiracies as he is? Why does she care?_

‘He’s my cousin. Visiting.’ Murray shot the woman his nicest smile for good measure. ‘I’m the closest person he has here, you have to let me in.’

The receptionist looked at him like she didn't entirely believe him, but she agreed, ‘At 9 am.’

***

At 5 am he was informed Alexei was out of surgery. Very much alive and, more importantly, stable. According to the doctors, he was supposed to wake up in one and a half days.

At 9 am he was finally allowed in his room. And there he was, sleeping peacefully as if nothing had happened, but at the same time he was attached to what seemed like a hundred different machines that were keeping him alive.

What was that thing Murray had in his eyes? Tears?

_Oh, this is so stupid. Why would I cry about some Russian man he met literal days ago being alive?_

Well, maybe he would have to admit that he cared about that man. Maybe he liked him even more than he'd like to admit.

Right now he was crying from relief that Alexei, the man he somehow really connected to, was alive. But who knew what the future would hold? Maybe in a few days he’d be crying about him being dead, ultimately unable to survive the severe injuries. And if that didn't happen, maybe in a few months he'd be crying about Alexei leaving the United States to come back to his motherland.

Murray scoffed at this train of thought. People would come in and go out of his life and it never bothered him in the slightest. Well, at least not since Chicago.

***

Since there was no use sitting by Alexei’s bedside the whole day, Murray brought himself to return to his house in Illinois. He justified it mostly by telling himself it was creepy to watch a man he barely even knew sleep all day. However, even though he wasn't physically by Alexei's bed, the man wouldn't leave his thoughts.

The doctor he talked to said that, if all went according to plan, Alexei would be free to go in three weeks. Murray didn’t want to think about what would happen once they let him out. Would he be healthy enough to live on his own? Would he be in a condition good enough to go back to Russia? Will he even want to? Murray didn’t know anything about Alexei’s life there and this thought was driving him _mad_. Maybe he had a loving family there – a wife with children, or parents that needed his support. But then again, he _did_ agree to take part in a secret, possibly dangerous mission abroad, so maybe he didn’t.

Whatever was the truth, he wanted Alexei to stay. Preferably here, with him. He let himself hope that Alexei would want that, too.

Murray poured himself a glass of Smirnoff vodka. He only had to wait one more day to find that out.

***

Murray came back to the hospital around the time Alexei was supposed to wake up in order to work as a translator, but also, and that was a reason he would admit to himself and himself only, because he wanted to make Alexei feel safe, comfortable and less scared of an unfamiliar environment.

He watched as the doctors woke him up. Alexei’s eyelids started to move, his breath became more rapid and then he opened his eyes. He looked around in panic, not recognising anyone at first, but finally his eyes settled on Murray. He could tell Alexei recognised him, but there was still fear in his eyes.

‘Где я?’1 he asked.

‘В больнице, недалеко от Хокинса.’ Murray answered calmly. ‘Ты помнишь, что случилось?’2

Alexei nodded, but only slightly, as he was still weak from the shot.

Then Murray proceeded to tell him everything the doctors wanted Alexei to know and thirty minutes later they were finally alone.

They sat in silence for a few seconds until Murray finally dared to say something.

‘Я волновался за тебя,’3 he admitted. That was an understatement of a decade, but he still tried to make it sound matter-of-factly. He didn’t like to be vulnerable, and he definitely didn’t like to be vulnerable in front of people he barely knew.

Alexei chuckled and cooed, and right then and there Murray thought he made a mistake by confessing his feelings, but then he noticed the happiness and relief in the Russian man’s eyes and he realised the reaction was nothing but good-natured.

‘Спасибо, что не оставил меня.’4

Murray shot him a smile, but it did not cover how ridiculously happy the simple fact that _Alexei wanted him here_ made him. However, there was still one question at the back of his mind that he had to ask, no matter how much he dreaded the answer. Alexei being happy to see him didn't automatically mean he would want to stay here. Murray pushed his glasses up his nose and sighed.

‘Что ты хочешь сделать, когда покинешь больницу?’5 he asked.

Alexei seemed to be thinking about it for a second. ‘Я не знаю. Я не думаю, что мне безопасно возвращаться в Советский Союз. Они будут искать меня.’6

If Murray was a bit better person, he wouldn’t feel that happy after hearing a person fears persecution.

‘Думаешь ты будешь в безопасности здесь?’7

‘Может быть. У нас не так много шпионов, как вы думаете.’8

Murray laughed. God, he missed his sense of humour. And when did joking about Russian spy presence became amusing to him? A week ago he would freak out at the mere mention of them. 

‘If you want, we can fly under the radar together,’ Murray muttered in English. Even though Alexei said he didn't plan on coming back to the Soviet Union, Murray was still scared to offer Alexei to live together. 

‘Что ты сказал?’9

Murray just shook his head, non-verbally telling Alexei to drop it.

‘нет, скажи мне.’10

Murray looked at him hesitantly, then dropped his head and muttered the words again, this time in Russian. After a second, he dared to look at the man again. 

Alexei’s eyes were almost closed from how hard he was smiling. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Transliterations and translations:  
> 1\. Gde ya?/Where am I?[return to text]  
> 2\. V bol'nitse, nedaleko ot Khokinsa. Ty pomnish', chto sluchilos'?/In the hospital near Hawkins. Do you remember what happened?[return to text]  
> 3\. Ya volnovalsya za tebya./I was worried about you.[return to text]  
> 4\. Spasibo, chto ne ostavil menya./Thank you for not abandoning me.[return to text]  
> 5\. Chto ty khochesh' sdelat', kogda pokinesh' bol'nitsu?/What do you want to do when you get out?[return to text]  
> 6\. Ya ne znayu. Ya ne dumayu, chto mne bezopasno vozvrashchat'sya v Sovetskiy Soyuz. Oni budut iskat' menya./I don't know. I don't think coming back to the Soviet Union will be safe. They'll be looking for me.[return to text]  
> 7\. Dumayesh', ty budesh' v bezopasnosti zdes'?/Do you think you'll be safe here?<[return to text]  
> 8\. Mozhet byt'. U nas ne tak mnogo shpionov, kak vy dumayete./Maybe. We don't have as many spies as you all think.[return to text]  
> 9\. Chto ty skazal?/What did you say?[return to text]  
> 10\. Net, skazhi mne./No, tell me.[return to text]
> 
> Leave kudos or comment if you liked it x


	2. The Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me almost two months to update. After I posted the first chapter, I got really busy with applying to Uni and flat-hunting, then I went on vacation for two weeks, and then I just didn't really feel like writing, but I'm finally back!!  
> Thank you to everyone who commented, left kudos or subscribed - it really means a lot! <3

Ever since they agreed Alexei would stay in the United States, Murray convinced him to learn at least some English to get by. Murray bought him some textbooks, an English-Russian dictionary and an audio course on cassettes, along with a cheap, second-hand cassette player. At first he tried, he _really_ tried, to help, but he gave up after Unit 2 of the first book. He simply didn’t have the patience for this.

It wasn’t even the fact that Alexei was a particularly not gifted student – he just had a completely different approach to learning. Instead of simply trying to absorb and memorise as much of the vocabulary, grammatical structures and rules as possible, Alexei liked to wander off. He often asked Murray questions about etymology or roots of the words he was learning and Murray hardly ever knew the answer. As a former journalist with an academic background in humanities, he probably should’ve known more, but he didn’t, and that frustrated the hell out of him.

Alexei also didn’t really like to follow the textbooks. Murray would walk back and forth in the hospital room, trying to explain in Russian, as clearly as possible, the concept of articles or auxiliary verbs, but whenever he’d look at Alexei, the man would be skimming through the dictionary looking for ‘funny’ words.

So as a result of both of these things, Murray gave up after two days, having completely lost hope in himself as an educator, and leaving his new friend to his own devices. All he could do was hope that Alexei would manage to learn at least _some_ basics while bedridden.

Personally, Murray didn’t mind speaking Russian with Alexei for the rest of eternity—there was something exciting and intimate about communicating with a person in a language barely anyone around here could understand—but Alexei couldn’t stay inside the house forever and an audibly Russian man out and about on the American streets can be easy to spot by the Soviet agents. (Call Murray paranoid but he did not believe what Alexei kept telling him; Murray was completely sure there were _multiple_ people out to get them both.)

However, until Alexei's English was good enough, they would converse solely in Russian.

***

For the rest of July, Murray found himself spending a lot of time at the hospital, keeping Alexei company. It was a great opportunity to get to know each other better.

He learned that Alexei was born in a village near Kursk and also spoke Ukrainian. He learned that his parents and older brother worked in agriculture, but he didn’t keep in touch with them ever since he moved to Moscow to study Physics and Engineering. He also learned that Alexei’s first and only girlfriend left him after she found out he accepted to work on this project, because she was a vocal member of the opposition movement and didn’t want him to work for the government.

Murray also shared with Alexei some details of his past. He told him he used to work for a respected Chicago newspaper, but he got fired once the complaints from the readers about his ‘unconventional’ or ‘mad’ opinions reached his boss. He told him that it was around that time that his father, a rabbi in the community he grew up in, cut ties with him until Murray decided to ‘stop being ridiculous’. He told him that, as much as he liked to meddle in other people’s love lives, he never fell in love himself, albeit he realised it only after his longest relationship ended. He also clarified that he didn’t feel like he needed a romantic relationship to be fully happy.

What he didn’t admit was that he didn’t feel truly happy in a long while.

***

‘This place is a shithole.’ It was the first sentence Alexei spoke after they reached Murray’s house.

Murray stopped in his tracks after his mind registered the words. Alexei just called his house a shithole. In English. With an audible Russian accent, but in English nonetheless.

How was he even supposed to answer that? With a simple _Excuse me?_ , which was his first thought? Murray was aware his décor was rather… extravagant, but it was all deliberate and this place definitely wasn’t a fucking shithole.

Or should he start by acknowledging the comment was said in English? And not even basic English, no. The word _shithole_ was a bit more advanced, you definitely wouldn’t find it in your average textbook.

Alexei must have correctly interpreted the silence, because he was laughing before Murray could say anything.

‘Медсестры научили меня нескольким словам.’1

The nurses. That explained a lot. From what Murray noticed, the were a gossipy bunch, amd surely they were fascinated by seeing a Russian man in the wild for what must have been the first time.

‘So how much English do you know now?’ asked Murray.

‘Not a lot,’ answered Alexei, this time in English before quickly switching to his native language again. ‘Несколько слов и предложений. Я все еще предпочитаю говорить по-русски.’2

‘Какие слова и предложения?’3 Murray had a feeling it was mostly more insults.

Alexei smirked and said ‘Ты это скоро узнаешь,4 you dip shit.’

‘Excuse me?!’ Murray laughed, but he was only 95% sure that what Alexei called him was just a demonstration of his wide range of vocabulary, and not an excuse to insult him as a way to 

‘It is a joke,’ Alexei assured him, the gleam in his eyes confirming his words.

‘So you’re just gonna keep showing off with all these vulgar words these women taught you?’ Murray muttered. Alexei was going to be the death of him.

‘Что ты сказал?’5

Murray debated for a second whether to indulge him. After all, it was Alexei’s fault he didn’t focus on learning proper English. Finally, after glancing at a—weirdly cute—confused facial expression of Alexei, he gave in. Is there anyone who would refuse that face? Murray didn’t think so.

‘Они только научили тебя ругаться.’6

‘Not only this, honeybun.’ Alexei winked, laughed and turned towards the door. 

_Honeybun. Who even is this guy?_

***

They spent another month and a half living in relative harmony. Murray indulged Alexei’s obsession with _Looney Tunes_ and unhealthy American food, and in exchange Alexei tolerated Murray’s habit of relaxing to jazz music in his pyjamas and with a glass of vodka. Alexei started working on his English for real, so Murray introduced him to cartoons with actual dialogue and some of the best films in the American cinematography. They rarely went out, but Murray took Alexei to other fairs, so that he could make some better memories, and he showed him around his old home, Chicago. He showed him the more interesting landmarks as well as some of the places he’d often frequent while he was still living there. Murray also started working again, so far only small cases that would allow him to stay in Illinois or close to the state's border. For some reason, Alexei was keen on helping him out, his condition still discouraged him from travelling longer distances and Murray tried to accommodate that. 

They were spending a lot of time together, but they always avoided serious discussions. For now, things were going extremely well, and Murray was afraid that whenever the discussion about the future or their relationship would come up, this peaceful bliss would be ruined.

One morning, the conversation came. They were both eating breakfast—scrambled eggs Murray made. The comfortable silence they sat in was broken when Alexei spoke.

‘For how long can I stay here?’ he asked.

 _What kind of question was that?_ Murray tried to assess what inspired Alexei to ask. Did he do something wrong? Made him feel in any way unwelcome? He didn’t come up with anything—they would tease each other from time to time, but they had stopped with the more serious insults. Murray also glanced at Alexei, trying to determine what the man himself thought about moving out. Alexei’s behaviour didn’t tell him much, as he was picking at his eggs and staring at Murray with a serious, barely readable expression that Murray, as much as he thought himself a magnificent people reader, couldn’t quite decipher. 

‘Why are you asking? Do you wanna move?’ Murray aimed for casual, but with the way his muscles tensed, he doubted he came off that way.

Alexei shrugged.

‘It’s just… It has been a few months, and I feel fine now. Maybe you changed your mind.’

So Alexei didn’t want to move? Murray’s face morphed from concerned into a grin.

‘I haven’t changed my mind.’

‘Really? I know you’re not a fan of company.’

Which was the truth, something Murray kept telling himself and others for years. And yet, Alexei seemed to be the exception. Murray tried to remember instances when he really, truly wanted him gone, but the only ones he could think happened before the Independence Day. 

‘You know what, I—’ Murray started. What was it exactly that he wanted to convey? Saying that Alexei was the company he never knew he wanted or even _needed_ , that these past few months spent together was the most fun he had in years—because no professional relationship that comes with his job can compare to the connection he and Alexei developed—would likely scare him off. Murray wasn’t even sure if that connection was felt by both of them, or if it was only in his own head.

Furthermore, he began realising that what he called 'not liking company' in reality was just an attempt at shielding himself from potential rejection; a result of what happened all those years ago in Chicago. But in the past few months, he rediscovered the fact that company could be a good thing. Having Alexei, someone who already knew most sides of him and _stayed_ , by his side felt nice. Murray felt lighter now that he had someone who not supported him in the attempts to uncover dangerous secrets of the government, taking some of the pressure of working alone off his shoulders, but also made sure he got some quality leisure time from time to time. Nevertheless, it seemed like too much to lay bare in a conversation like this one. 

‘I don’t mind your company. In fact, I quite enjoy it,’ Murray pushed his glasses up his nose as he said that. Now, that was a safer thing to admit. In an attempt to release the tension, he added, ‘Who would’ve thought an American and a Russian would get along so well, huh?’

‘True,’ Alexei smiled. ‘And for the record, I quite enjoy your company, too.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Medsestry nauchili menya neskol'kim slovam./The nurses taught me a few words.[return to text]  
> 2\. Neskol'ko slov i predlozheniy. Ya vse yeshche predpochitayu govorit' po-russki./A few words and phrases. I still prefer speaking Russian. [return to text]  
> 3\. Kakiye slova i predlozheniya?/What words and phrases?[return to text]  
> 4\. Ты это скоро узнаешь/You will find out soon[return to text]  
> 5\. Chto ty skazal?/What did you say?[return to text]  
> 6\. Oni tol'ko nauchili tebya rugat'sya./They only taught you to swear.[return to text]


End file.
